


From the Waters I Rise (To be Found in the Night)

by Writing_Frenzy



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Xuanhuan, Depictions of Violence and Abuse, Mental Instability, Mixed Martial Arts, Mystical Martial Arts, cultivation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-17 07:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15456342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writing_Frenzy/pseuds/Writing_Frenzy
Summary: Sometimes, one really has to question their interests; like, just for example, why was his former life so obsessed with Chinese cultivation novels and a certain manga about a hitman and his student?Maybe then my life wouldn't read like a bad manga.





	1. Prologue- Between a Rock and a Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo.. hi... I'm alive... and I have fallen down a very, very bad rabbit hole.  
> Cultivation novels, they are so much fun.  
> 

The first thing they feel, after so long in the darkness, was the crushing, suffocating pressure surrounding all around them. They couldn’t even breathe, even after so long.

( _betrayedbetrayalwhyisitalwaysabreakingoftrust?_ )*

Even as they opened there eyes, _(and whoa, how strange it was to do that again)_ all they could see was murky black and brown, with just the barest hint of silver shining above.

It was instinct, to head for that shining light; no matter how much of a dead weight they felt like, or how they were pushed further and farther along, one knew they _had to_ head that way.

_“If only the pressure was a little lighter, this would be much easier.”_ was the slightly frustrated thought, as their arms attempted to move them forward.

And yet, strangely enough, the pressure did lighten up; in fact, it even seemed to _help_ them push forward.

Very soon, they were able to break to the surface, gulping in air much like fish took in water, the thrashing of their arms and feet somehow managing to get them caught on some rough rocks. With the aid of the mysterious force that saved them, they pushed up their weary body on top of them, allowing them precious time to rest.

Gaining back those hard earned breaths of air, dazed eyes took in the scenery all around them, from the night sky filled river, to the half moon that acted as their guiding light through it all, a frown came over them.

Why.. why were they here? They very much _remembered_ being _brutally murdered_ and all.

Looking inward, trying to find the answers from all the thoughts and feeling they were made up of, they found a _very big surprise_ :

A spark of _life_.

Instantly, leaving no room for escape, they pounced upon that spark, taking it in in awe. ( _They had been **dead** for so long, the feeling of life was just almost **unimaginable**_ )

It was such a young life… and oh, such a  **harsh** one as well.

( _Howfamilarthatwas_.)**

A young boy in a village, living with his father and grandmother, a simple life at first, filled with chore after chore, helping to take care of the house and occasional hunting with his father.

Only, there was one hunting trip his father never came back from.

But it was fine, he and his grandmother could take care of each other, they would be able to work with what the had, they could find something before winter came.

He just never expected his grandmother to sell him out, perfectly willing to as long as she could live comfortably.

(Though the joke was on her; why would slavers bother paying for something they could just as easily take for free?)

Harsher conditions only followed, dreams came and gone like the winter wind, and the youth traded more hands then they could remember, faces blurring as their willpower faded…

And in the end, to almost die after being thrown as monster bait to a beast, ending up in the river instead of the road...

… This was just to sad… this boy’s soul practically _welcomed death_ , what with how it already felt that it was.

The one currently in control could only frown, starting to search even deeper, almost scouring every inch of this injured soul, looking just that bit harder for…!

**_There_**!

(Memories, warm ones, of blankets by the fire as father named the stars and their constellations, telling him tales of gods and demons alike. Of playing with the other village kids, the sun hot but the laughter high all around them. Of times when grandmother smiled, making his favorite meal to celebrate a good catch from the previous hunt.)

He… he **_wanted_** days like those again… such warm memories like dreams…

_“Would you do whatever you can, to live such a way again? To have such peace?”_ They thought to the last little bit of will the lonely, bitter boy had, a hope there at last.

But for a while, the one currently in control thought it would be unanswered, what with how all they got back was a quiet like a grave.

But two could play that game, as while the rocks were sharp and cold to their drenched body, the water on their body was strangely nice and comfortable on there skin. Time was all there seemed to be in this life, there would be no need to rush the spark of life here.

But yet, not long after these thoughts of resolve flowed by, did they finally get an answer.

…

....

…. _**Yes**_..

On the youths face, what only the moon saw that night, was a beautiful smile shining, brightening up that tired youth's entire being.

“ ** _Then live._** ” was the reply, before the foreign soul gave, pushing all their _resolve_ , their _thoughts_ , their _power_ into the youth so hurt by this world, exhausting the long dead soul as they do.

But just before they leave, going where dead souls are wont to go, they give one last remark

“ ** _And make sure you find it, those warm days again_**.”

And then, nothing but darkness remained.

* * *

 In time, the boy woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and _a very much too bright_ sun reflecting off the water _all around him_.

…

Well, considering the alternative, they’ll take what they can get at this moment.

Closing their eyes once more, the youth rested his head against the rock, relieving quite a bit of the pain coming from the migraine crashing through his skull. It wasn’t till the young boy’s breath had finally steadied, their small chest no longer working double time, did they finally open them again, a bit of confusion entering them as the take in the water below them.

… the eyes aren’t green... but a copper color, deep like old pennies, yet still containing just that hint of shine…. And their hair, it’s not brown like tree bark, but like ash, almost seeming gray if one didn’t look too closely…

… They were Zhi, not Kyle Martin… the soul that sacrificed their power and memories, just so his own soul could heal, allowing him to live on…

…

… That dead man was an _utter fucking dork_.

Seriously, they end up getting obsessed with manga and light novels, to a point they sign up to learn an Asian language, _without_ finding just which one they are learning.

This was how the guy learned simplified and traditional Chinese. It wasn’t till college that Kyle learned the Japanese he wanted, and yet, by then, they barely even had time to _think_ what with all the courses they were taking.

And when they did, they, through mysterious circumstances and saying the wrong thing at the right time, Kyle ended up becoming part of a translation group.   

Even how they died, while heartbreaking, was so damn ridiculous, Zhi had no words for it.

First, Kyle had a very poor taste in best friend, a playboy bad boy who while a ‘total bro’ as it were, was terrible with all the relationships they’ve had, dumping all his exs with no remorse.

Said exs were, needless to say, displeased… and quite a bit jealous as it were.

After all, this best friend would, at times, sight Kyle as the reason why he would break up with his flavor of the week, saying how he trusted his opinion about the person or even how they were their true love.

Kyle has told them, many times at that, to cut that shit out, to only receiving laughter and no promises.

Only, it was no laughing matter when a group of ex gathered together, using a friend of his who happened to be in love with the playboy to lead him to the slaughter.

Yeah, they now knew what it felt like to die like Caesar. Not fun…

Taking a deep breath, Zhi shook their head, as if to shake off all the memories he had received with the water drops as well. The youth had a lot more things to worry about right now then Kyle's unfortunate circumstances…

Like, just how was he going to get off this rock?  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, these first few chapters, are mostly world building, as I am going to be mashing Japanese and Chinese myths, abilities, and terms all together, and see how it all hit the fan.  
> This should be fun.  
> * betrayed betrayal why is it always a breaking of trust?  
> ** How familiar that was
> 
> Note: I wanted to try something different here, thus, instead of someone reincarnating, or sudden body possession, the original host basically gets healing and a jump-start for the soul from their past life, which is gone now to where the dead go.  
> Oh, you can tell I'm going to have fun with this, poor Zhi won't know what hit him :D


	2. 1: To Be Found

The river, now reflecting the daytime sky, was actually a rather fast paced one, rushing down a mountain until it would lead off into a waterfall further along. It had been the destination his current master had been heading for, hoping to receive a rare treasure said to appear there every so often, then sell it at auction.

Until the wild beast had attacked and he was sacrificed as a distraction on his master’s order by a fellow servant.

"Hope that bastard got eaten." Zhi spat, after yet another failed attempt at using that strange sensation Kyle used to to push his body out of the water, frustration and bitterness forefront on the mind. 

Yes, he was indeed quite bitter about _that_ still; it was very much a miracle he lived, even though it was mostly due to the fact he landed in the river. 

(He would like to think it was on purpose, to maybe try and save him… but under the master’s _‘kind hands’_ , Zhi doubted it.)

Shaking of those thoughts, the former slave had something more important to think on; he still had to figure out a way to get out of this rather _rocky_ situation after all.

He was actually tempted at this point to just jump into the water again and see if the life or death situation worked out for him again, when something rather unexpected happened.

“Oi, young one, what are you doing all the way over there?” was called out rather suddenly, startling Zhi so bad, he almost fell into the water once more. Looking over from his rock, the young boy blinked as he took in the man at the shore, their dark blue and green robes easily able to get their attention, not to mention the powerful aura the other carried, the pressure of it similar to the water’s, if not nicer in how it actually let him breath.

(Though he had a feeling it could just as _easily_ change with a thought.)  

“...Luck.” Zhi answered, not able to help his frown as he narrowed his naturally sleepy eyes even more over at the man across from him-

“That’s some luck you got there young one. Would you care for a helping hand?” A voice of smoke and whispers said, deep in a way most woman (and men at times) dreamed.

-who was now right in _front_ of him, hand held out before _him_...

....

Suddenly, the words “I saw someone so beautiful I cried’ make perfect sense; because _damn_ , was this man before him _beautiful_.

Silk-like long black hair easily went down to their back, acting as a perfect frame for the man’s snow white skin, as black eyes that could only be described as ‘phoenix eyes’ what with that slant and curve to them, looked down upon him from that noble and no doubt manly face, a frown of concern not even detracting a thing. Even the hand, well musled and strong looking, looked as if it were made of fine white jade, a true masterpiece as it were if one were looking from a museum.

...huh, Zhi is actually pretty impressed, the guy’s beauty actually made his racing mind stall for a bit… But it would be rude not to answer the man, so let’s try.

“Why would you want to help me?”

… It’s a starter, not to mention a good question at least. (But damn his trust issues; as much as they have kept him alive, they have also very much _isolated_ him.)

* * *

Bao Daoyi could have what have what you called, a curse, a well known one at that. Oh, you can have cultivators far and wide check his heart and Qi, no one would find any evidence of such, and even his Karma was pretty good, nothing to indicate any inner demons or bad energies. Not to mention an earth shattering beauty that drew in gazes left and right, from all around; even gods and divine beasts have come to gawk, staring upon his figure with a familiar greed in them.

And yet, it could not be denied; Daoyi had the strangest of luck imaginable, truly a person who ‘ _may live in interesting times_ ’. Personally, the man thought some of the blame fell to his mother, what with naming him after an infamous outlaw, not to mention inheriting her unearthly beauty along with it. He felt these were the biggest contributions to his rather hectic lifestyle (no matter how his friends say his quirks alone would be enough to ensure it.) 

But no matter how one gets used to such, that doesn’t mean they don’t want to be alone because of it… After all, even friends can grow _weary_ of near constant excitement and thrills, longing for  _peace_ so easy to maintain, if one were to separate from him. And Daoyi would not blame them, for he too grew tired of such times as well, entering closed-door cultivation at times just to ensure so, even if years, maybe even a few decades, would pass.

But still, one would like the chance for _any company_ , becoming _slightly_ desperate in a way one does when alone for too long. Master Bao has had many travel companions, from the most curious of Martial Artists, to even the strangest of the low Demonic Cultivators (which, if given the chance, could be a better friend to you then even a Sect’s young master). He has gone through much laughter, tears, dreams, and fear with many people in his life.

Every. _Single_. _One_. _Of._ _Them_. **_Left_**.

Honestly, it _wears_ on the heart.

But, if there is one thing he could say about his ‘ _luck_ ’ as it were, it has left him one very powerful individual; there is no shortage in people who seek him out, yearning for his skills, techniques, and even powers. There are plenty who wish for Daoyi to either join them, or even just to learn from him.

Admittedly, he would like to pass on his knowledge, his skills, and even help the next generation grow strong enough, that if they wanted to, desired it enough, they could challenge the heavens or hells themselves.

And yet… he can’t even do such, no matter how much he wishes so; most, if not all of his techniques, need a certain… _elemental requirement_.

While most, if all people, had the Five elements, roots of people’s power as it were, known widely as powers of Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water, (with the occasion mutation like ice and wind happening sometimes). And with certain training, _anyone_ could learn to use these powers, with a bit of resolve of course.

The thing was, these weren’t the _only_ roots one could have; after all, what tree has only one grouping of roots?

These were the Physical Elements, with yet another set of elements, ones most don’t even know about; Spiritual Elements. _Only_ able to be gained under special circumstances, or if one cultivated a Golden Core, they were a complex art upon themselves, with many mysteries surrounding them _still_.  

For those of the high, for the weather one must bare through; Sky, Storm, Rain, Mist, Sun, Lightning, Cloud.

For those of the land, who must be steady and balanced even in hard times; Terra, Glacier, Desert, Forest, Mountain, Swamp, River

These were the ones more well known in those certain informed circles, the ones people _expected_.

Of course, Daoyi's _luck_  wouldn't allow for something normal, would it? In fact, he even awakened his Spiritual element before his Physical ones…

And one that, while _somewhat_ known, were not overly _appreciated_.

The Spiritual element of Night; only spoken of in tales and rumors, it was one, understandably that wasn’t quite common. Most, if not all of his techniques, need this dark power to work, not even those of the Mist or Desert element could work around it, tricking through techniques so easily and yet blocked by his.

The Night Element, so mysterious, even still to the one who wielded it, learning even more about it day by day. 

So thus, thanks to this rare element, Daoyi thought that he would never get the chance to teach, to have a disciple learn from him, maybe even help him in return learn more.

(They do say that in the end, the teacher ends up learning more from the student then the other way around.)

After all, how often could one find another Night Elemental, it wasn’t like one could _fish_ them from the rivers or anything-

…

(A boy with sharp copper eyes, looking so weary even as he stares at him incredulously, who answered “Luck.” with sarcasm and bitterness so deep, yet hope still blazing bright.)

…

Or maybe he can.

Staring into those copper colored eyes, their Qi all around speaking of water, darkness, with the hint of a metal luster mixed in, the Cultivator wondered on just how to convince them to follow him as a disciple… would candy work?

Wait, better answer the question first. Something tell him honesty would be best here, so let's go with that.

“Because, I see eyes so like my own; hatred and darkness so thick, bitter and lonely about in a world so full of other emotions,” Daoyi answered, a smile now on his face even as he let just a bit of his own darkness leak through, the child tensing as they do.  

Yet they stay before him, still meeting his eyes.

“... And yet still have the sheer _will_ to still hold on to _hope_ ; what more could I ask for in a student?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo, gonna be a long note to describe things; but hey, look at this, another OC! hope you like him, I know I do.  
> Bao Daoyi is indeed named after a outlaw, a fictional one from a book called the Water Margin, who I read a wiki page about and actually liked.  
> (And here follows the theme of guys in Cultivation novels being beautiful and drop dead gorgous :D can't ya tell I'm going to have so much fun with him.)
> 
> so, we see now how the KHR flames work here, I can't wait to mess around XD Element mechanics are a go~ 
> 
> Here is definitions! all paraphased from here = https://immortalmountain.wordpress.com/glossary/wuxia-xianxia-xuanhuan-terms/#items
> 
> **Qi** \- the vital energy which exists in all things; can be translated as many things, but most might know Chi better.  
>  **Sect** \- an organization that practices cultiation, and be martial art and/or mysticaly ones to.  
>  **Cultivators** \- people who use mystical/martial arts, usually to live long, prosper, and become badass.

**Author's Note:**

> Gonna be honest, I make no promises. But I hope you enjoy.


End file.
